


look up and wonder(where are all the stars?)

by janigkale



Series: ripples [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Heroes & Heroines, Introspection, Rooftops, This came from Incredibles 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janigkale/pseuds/janigkale
Summary: Violet's recently moved to New York, and it's been one year since Peter started the whole Spiderman thing. What happens when they happen to be on the same rooftop a random night?





	look up and wonder(where are all the stars?)

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently watched Incredibles 2 and couldn't resist combining it with my undying adoration for Spidey. Enjoy!

The first time he sees her, he doesn't actually see _her_. He sees lithe, tiny footsteps in the rubble and the barest flash of indigo, like the first dusk of night. It's after some crazy battle with some stray magical creatures, and Tony had been pissed in that edgy, worried way _(crazy sixteen year olds)_ when he found Peter.

In the Stark med lab, all he could think of was those footsteps.

The second time, Peter’s on a rooftop, eating a burrito after patrol, documenting the tiny pinpricks of bright white against the pitch sky. And then he hears it. Slight, tiny footsteps, and he freezes, pulls down his mask, almost yells, but it turns out as a tiny whisper. “Who’s there?”

And in a flash, in a second, the scarlet and orange suit is there, and his mouth widens. He stumbles back, as she tentatively walks forward, brushing a stray black hair away. It seems to camouflage her against the dewy midnight, even if she's practically a beacon.

“Spider-Man,” she says, and it doesn't hit him hard enough that she knows his name, _her_. He barely makes out her name in turn.

“Miss Incredible.” Her lips turn up the slightest bit, like she’s catching the end of a good joke. She walks past him, to the edge of the building, and sits down, long legs swinging past the edge.

He doesn't catch on until she pats the space next to her.

He sits with her, and the first thing out of his mouth is , “I thought you lived in Chicago.” Her mouth upturns at that, and she replies not at him, but the stars, “College, you know. Can't tell the press that.” It makes sense, Peter muses- Miss Incredible’s been active since he was eleven- one of the first and only child heroes, along with Incrediblur, a lame name admittedly. But what does he know?

She's been doing this longer than he has, anyway. She and Incrediblur are allegedly part of the superhero team known as the Incredibles. There had been assumptions that the team had been a family of superhumans, but no one could track them down long enough. They'd been the original superhero team, even before the Avengers. Peter still remembers seeing the massive black droid ripping apart Chicago before an enormous man threw its own claw in it, splintering it into nothing.

They'd been part of the reason he could even get away with Spider-Man.

_(‘incrediblur’s like, the same age as me tony, why can't I do the same? why can't I help people?')_

He's curious, doesn't press though, because he gets the fact that she's not exactly excited to share her personal life with a tiny teenager in a spider costume.

Still.

 _Miss Incredible’s_ sitting right next to him.

She breaks the night first. “My brother would love it here. Everything’s just so _fast_ , you know, city never sleeps and all. He'd zip around here all the time, if he could.” Peter nearly chokes on the half eaten burrito he'd hidden earlier. It tastes like cardboard as what she's said registers quickly in his head.

Oh.

He says, quietly, “Why are you telling _me_? I'm some random vigilante in New York; I bet you could hang with Mr-Iron Man if you wanted to. Why-” he doesn't say anything further, because it makes no sense. It doesn't. He's still a kid, only in his first year, trying to stop those muggers, trying to play his part, trying not to think of dark crimson blood all over his heads. He doesn't think of screams in his throat or half truths that he tells, even if they're a landslide of hard rocks that stick in his stomach like poison.

She's quiet. Almost invisible.

Maybe she is. Peter’s pretty sure it's all some crazy dream anyway.

“You're, like, what, fifteen?” The word _sixteen_ burns in his throat, but he just looks down, down at the sidewalk, miles away.

“You’re new to this; that’s not a bad thing. But still, you came out nowhere. It was a choice, right?” She doesn't leave room to answer.

“For my brother and I- it was always like a crappy game of hide and seek. Either we stayed in the shadows or we made force fields and zipped around. There's not much to think about with that- but the heroes who become heroes by choice- that's something different.”

She looks at him, eyes wide, cobalt blue with a slice of electric jellyfish purple. “And you're a _kid_.”

It sounds like an insult, and Peter, impulsive, fast, retorts, “You were fourteen when _you_ started. At least!” He’s seen the archived records at the tower.

Miss Incredible doesn't flinch, but her eyes become soft. She stares back up, as if she's piecing a story from the constellations that hang above them. “Nobody really knows who we are. No one will.”

It's true. Tony’s got no dirt on the Incredibles, only knowing their powers, their attributes, their _maybe_ ages. He's seen them on TV, even now, still saving people, but never giving themselves away. He's heard Tony mumbling about their suits, tracing over footage of them, always muttering about how those crazy Incredibles always managed to have perfectly fine suits, however insane the battle.

To be honest, it's kind of baffling. But he could use it. Even with Tony’s amazing engineering skills, his suit gets destroyed more than he'd like.

So he breathes, and his tone light, he asks, “Your suits- why don't they ever get ripped up? It's like magic, or the Force-” Miss Incredible laughs, high and squeaky, settles a hand on the brick below her.

“An old family friend,” she says, finally, and her eyes for the slightest second, skim down his own suit. “I can give you her number, if you want. I think she’d be thrilled to design something Spider-Man themed.”

It sounds like a joke, but Peter’s not insulted. “That’s alright,” he says, protesting, but she's already pressed a piece of plastic, hard against his thumb, in his hand.

She's nearly gone by the time he realizes it. It's only when he yells, clear against the moonlight, that her face, pale, comes into view.

“Heroes that came first- you're the reason we’re here.” She smiles, and a ghost of her voice comes from her as she fades into oblivion.

“See you around, Spidey.”

He sits on the rooftop, glances down at the pearlescent card in his hand.

Edna Mode.

There's a number beneath the name, ten easy digits. Peter grins, shoots a web against the next building. He swings, breathing the tinged New York air, always home.

Maybe he will take Miss Incredible's advice.

Maybe.

But Tony could never find out. He'd _flip_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The references to Chicago come from a theory I found that Metroville's based on Chicago. I uses it bc the MCU uses real locations like New Mexico and NYC.


End file.
